


Hallelujah

by ZombieCyborgAssassin



Series: Smutisfaction Files [12]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, I made myself feel feelings, I tried a thing, hope you like it, idk what even this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-05 16:22:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18369683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombieCyborgAssassin/pseuds/ZombieCyborgAssassin
Summary: Song Fic to get me out of a slump.Bucky no longer a person in the Winter Soldier request.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lavachick85](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavachick85/gifts).



> I own nothing.  
> If you like this, check out my other fics, and my website for original content.  
> [www.KatherineHenshaw.com](https://www.katherinehenshaw.com)

**Well I've heard there was a secret chord** **  
** **That David played and it pleased the Lord** **  
** **But you don't really care for music, do you?** **  
** **Well it goes like this:** **  
** **The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift** **  
** **The baffled king composing Hallelujah**   
  
She clutched at the thick fabric of his vest and pressed her forehead between his shoulder blades, hiding her face with her shaking arms. Bullets were spraying sporadically in close quarters and her hearing was well and truly shot… pun totally intended, because she was pretty sure they were about to die and damn it if she wasn't going to enjoy the last moments she had left. If only he wasn't so focused on shooting the Hydra agents, she’d have told him the pun so he could, too. Though he wouldn't have said a thing or reacted. She knew he’d still enjoy it. She was used to that about him.

Adrenalin was pumping thick and every microsecond felt like an entire lifetime, she was so glad she got to spend her last lifetimes with _him_.

Another hail of bullets rained broken plaster down on their place, and she noticed it absorb into the pool of blood spreading further beneath them. She distantly wondered how much of it was hers and how much of it was his.   
  
**Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah**   


 

_“He’s been POW for over Seventy years, Steve. Whatever memories of Bucky Bar-”_

_“I’ll help him remember, Sam,”_

_“And if he never remembers?”_

_She and Natasha had been drawn from their weekly co-baking adventure by the argument down the hall in the living room. When they entered they found not only the previously absent_ _eye-candy_ _Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson who had finally returned from their ‘Where's Bucky’ roadtripping adventure, but also said missing BFF. The former two were having some kind of full blown superhero blinking contest, (and honestly, she wasn't even aware that Steve could go that shade of red) the latter was sitting and watching on blankly._

_“Yasha,” Nat’s voice sounded loaded with so many things that spoke of History (capitol H), she wasn't even sure if there was any kind of way for the poor man to answer without getting shot._

_Deciding she needed to at least give him an out with Nat, she smirked the red head, “Is that some kind of sexy russian pet name? Where's mine?”_

_A single bark of laughter left the eerily still man, causing the fighting duo to stop what they were doing and stare at him in shock._

_Nat observed this, but turned to Darcy with a knowing grin, “It is russian for James.”_

_Deciding to just go with it because now the man had three people’s attention to deal with. And to be perfectly honest, it never bothered her to make a scene._

_She pouted at the flour covered spy beside her, “Aww. Can I still have a sexy russian pet name?”_

_While she tried not to laugh at Natasha’s un-spy-like eye roll, she didn't initially realise that someone had answered._

_When the deep, “Da,” registered, she and the rest of the rooms occupants heads whipped around to gape at the still expressionless man on the designer couch._

_Regardless of the unreadable expression, she felt a warm tingle run up her spine and decided that this guy might be a complete vintage set of military grade baggage, but something about him made her like him. Right then she decided that he was going to be one of her humans. She’d already adopted Jane, Eric, Bruce, Nat and weirdly enough Johnny Storm. What's another russian spysassin?_

_“What should I call you, Soldier?” she asked with a flirty smile, much to the disapproval of Steve, if his face was anything to go by._

_He blinked at her a moment, then his head tilted to the side, causing his hair to slide across his ridiculous cheek bone. Then, “Yasha,” like he wasn’t sure if the word was the correct answer. She later figured out that he wasn’t sure about a lot of things, and he wasn’t given a lot of choices before that moment either._

_“Oh, so_ now _you speak?” Sam threw his arms up in the air. “I thought you were mute, man!”_

_Smiling she walked across the room and plopped down next to Yasha. “Maybe he's always had a rather extensive vocabulary, not to mention a phenomenal grasp of grammar and a superlative command of syntax, and simply chose not to employ them.”_

_Nat snorted, Steve and Yasha looked confused and Sam looked mad as hell. “Tell me you did_ not _just quote The Little Rascals at me right now.”_

_She winked at the admittedly delicious cut hobo next to her, “I did not just quote The Little Rascals at you right now,” she mimicked flatly._

_His face didn't change, but his eyes warmed from arctic to blizzard, so she figured it was a major win on her part, no matter how Sam bitched her out._

 

 **Well your faith was strong but you needed proof** **  
** **You saw her bathing on the roof** **  
** **Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya** **  
** **She tied you to her kitchen chair** **  
** **And she broke your throne and she cut your hair** **  
** **And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah**   


  
The tang of copper and gun smoke was thick in the air and a cold sweat had long since broken out across her body from the pain, giving her the sensation of ice cold perspiration drops sliding down her back or her neck.

She shifted to press her lips to the back of his neck, making Yasha’s movements falter for the briefest moment. If there was one last message she wanted to get across before she bled out, or was shot clean in the head in the next moments, it was everything behind that kiss.   
There was no backup coming, not any that would make it in time to save them, at least. The whole Avenger team had been sent to some major Hydra disturbance somewhere in Europe, and she was never told the details of classified missions. Even the Science Team were in Korea for a conference. It was just Darcy and Yasha at the Avengers Mansion, something she had been so looking forward to. She had set her sights on an afternoon poolside, hoping she could convince the stoic man to go shirtless.

Eyes wide with fear, she had pulled her phone out the moment she heard FRIDAY’s glitchy voice try to warn them.

“M-M-M-Miss Lewis, Sergeant Bar-r-r-r-rnes, we are un-un-underrrrrrr attack-k. It-it-it-it sssssssseems I-I cannot keep them out of m-” The AI’s irish lilt had gone ominously quiet, but was quickly followed by a harsh eastern european dialect. Yasha had quickly pulled a gun and shot the speakers out around the room.

Steve had answered almost immediately while Yasha began barricading the communal kitchen.

She had heard Nat’s hissed, “I told you this felt like a trap, Rogers.” It was vicious and filled with a rage that Darcy hadn’t heard before. She didn't think she could help the warm glow in her chest at the spy queens words.

But she quickly went cold at Steve’s words, “We’re at least seven hours away at the quickest, Darcy. We won't make it.”

  
  


**Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah**   


_She wasn’t aware of how he perceived her, not truely, for the first four months. He never reacted to anything she said, or even her presence, and she could count the times he spoke on the one hand._

_Regardless, she followed him around and made sure he was looking after himself, tried to help him define himself_ now _, rather than trying to reclaim some long dead part of himself. Something that Steve seemed hellbent on. She just hoped Steve was speaking to a professional about it so he didn't make more of a mess of Yasha._

_No, she didn't get any indication of how he saw her until month five, when she had stood up to Steve. He’d ambushed Yasha in the communal lounge and started playing songs from the thirties and forties. She’d seen the way the songs had made him twitch, something he didn't even do when a gun was pointed at his goddamned face in training, and jumped right into action. Roughly turning the music off, and spinning around with a finger pointed at the paragon of truth and justice, she’d ripped the man a new asshole, with an extra one to spare._

_She didn't hold back, and she didn't stop until Yasha himself wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her away from screaming in the other super soldiers grief stricken face. He’d dragged her to his spartan rooms and plonked her down on the single chair. He sat himself on the end of his bed and stared at her for a while. Something that she was used to by this time, but it was the words he spoke that she wasn't used to. This was the third time he spoke since she had met her. The soft “Thank you,” left little impact in the silent room, barely a breath, but it tattooed itself across her soul with his glowing azure eyes were boaring into her. And she didn't know how she knew, but she knew down to her bones in that moment that it didn't matter what she did, or how long she lived, this man was going to be the only other human being in this lifetime, or the next, that would ever have her heart._

 

 **But baby I've been here before** **  
** **I've seen this room and I've walked this floor** **  
** **You know, I used to live alone before I knew ya** **  
** **And I've seen your flag on the marble arch** **  
** **And love is not a victory march** **  
** **It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah**   
  
The shooting had stopped for a moment. She was nauseous from the pain now, and dizzy which she suspected was from the blood loss. She wasn't sure how long she could keep from throwing up what little she and Yasha had made for breakfast, but she was sure there was going to be a revisit at some point soon if she continued to feel like this.

There was a shout, “Soldat!” in sharp russian, she suspected. It was loud enough that she could hear it over the ringing in her ears, and there was a tinny quality to it, so she guessed it was being yelled at them through a megaphone or something like it. She expected that.

What she didn't expect was the next thing to happen.

The loud russian came back, “желание!” _(longing)_ and Yasha became so tense that he accidentally put pressure on her bullet wound, which she now realised was in her stomach, and began shaking. His head began whipping back and forth, glimpses of his frantic expression fleeting from between the gaps in his hair.

“ржавый!” _(rusted)_ She didn't realise what was happening until he lifted his gun to his temple. She gave a short breathless scream that felt impotent as she couldn't draw breath properly, nor could she barely hear it. Reaching with both hands, she tried to point the gun in a different direction.

 

 **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah**

  


_It hadn’t been a series of small vulnerabilities and walls slowly coming down, and it hadn’t even been her that made the first move._

_She had been curled up on the couch with him, her head on his shoulder (the left one) and they were both reading books in the quiet of the night. He didn’t sleep often, and she had such sporadic sleep patterns with Janes schedule that they often spent the darkest hours of the night in each others company._

_She was working on this months reading pile, some classic fantasies, and she had discovered that he seemed to get sucked right into science fiction. She particularly loved seeing him ignore people outright when they tried to pry him from them. Including Steve. Especially Steve._

_She didn't know when it started, but it wasn’t until a roll of thunder interrupted her reading that she realised that it was pouring with rain outside. The storm was natural, so she knew everything was fine with Thor. The lightning flickered across all the surfaces of the room, and dancing off Yasha’s left hand. She looked up to his face, and he was already looking at her. Still unreadable, still shuttered. She smiled and snuggled closer, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder, and gave a little sigh of contentedness._

_She didn’t have a moment to enjoy the warmth before the book was lifted from her hands, bookmark carefully put in place, before his hands were on both sides of her face and his warm sweet lips were pressed against hers. It took her a moment to register what was happening before she melted into him and his kiss._

_He tasted like hot chocolate and sunshine and dirty filthy naughty things._

_His mouth was insistent, his hands were cradling her head like she was precious, and he put his whole body into the kiss - which was so much more than a kiss and was the most real thing she had ever experienced in her whole life._

_All his kisses were like that._

_But that first kiss escalated quickly to him slowly covering her body with his, and began rolling his hips in time with his lips._

_Later, she had clutched him to her as he filled her over and over, while saying so much with not a word spoken._

 

 **Well there was a time when you let me know** **  
** **What's really going on below** **  
** **But now you never show that to me do ya** **  
** **But remember when I moved in you** **  
** **And the holy dove was moving too** **  
** **And every breath we drew was Hallelujah**

  


The gun went off in his hand, and his hand was in both of hers. She felt her fingers burn, but what was more pain at this point?

Her eyes adjusted to blinding fear before finally seeing that she had made him miss. She wrapped her arms around his neck from behind and pressed her cheek to his, a weak sob wracked her body when he pressed his temple to hers briefly.

“семнадцать!” _(seventeen)_ his body continued to shake, but he lifted his left hand, to judge the distance of the speaker in the reflection. She didn’t know how he did it, but she guessed he had more practice at it.

He gently unwound her arms from his neck and twisted around to face her, surveying her injuries, eyes catching and holding on her stomach.

She lifted a blood stained hand and pressed it to his cheek to bring his attention away from her potentially mortal wound.

“рассвет!” _(dawn)_

She saw, more than heard, him heave a shaking sigh before leaning forward and molding his lips to hers. She’d long learned to read everything he never said, and this was a kiss of a man whose heart was breaking. It was a goodbye.

 

 **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah**

 

 _Even after moving into a_ very _intimate relationship, he still didn’t speak. He let her do all the talking. She didn’t mind, while others in the mansion seemed to be bothered by it. She was capable of reading him while others were not, apparently._

_She didn’t realised that anyone would have an issue with their relationship being taken to the next level, until she had been cornered in the labs by Steve. She knew why he chose to corner her there, Yasha avoided the labs like the plague._

_Steve had walked into Yasha’s rooms without knocking, which was just rude as far as she was concerned, and was witness to some very impressive stamina on Yasha’s part. She hadn’t been able to walk straight for a couple of days. It only put a look of satisfaction in his eye that you could only see if you knew how to read his eyes. She’d just roll her eyes at him and poke her tongue out at him._

_In the otherwise empty labs, Steve had called her a disgusting rapist and while pulling a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, announced that he was arresting her. She was speechless and profoundly shocked at the accusation._

_He wasn’t gentle when he cuffed her, and frog marched her through the mansion._

_It wasn’t until she was being forcefully shoved into the back of a nondescript black SUV that anyone had been around to see what was happening. It was Tony’s Security guy, Happy. If it weren't for him stepping forward, she suspected that Steve would have successfully managed to have her behind bars in the upstate facility, the destination she was headed for she later found out._

_Happy had refused to allow Steve to drive away, even going so far as to lock down the facility._

_Yasha had come out not long after, and needless to say, he got it into Steve's head that he was a discerning adult, not incapable of consent. He only needed his fists, and one word; “No.”_

_Happy was quick to point out to Steve that if Yasha was capable of saying no, then consent was not an issue._

_Steve was taken off Avenger duty for six months while he underwent intensive therapy._

_It was after a long buddy cry with Steve, that the two of them mended bridges and became close._

_It was after seeing Steve thwart one of Darcy’s kidnappings that Yasha and Steve became close as brothers again._

 

 **Maybe there's a God above** **  
** **But all I've ever learned from love** **  
** **Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya** **  
** **And it's not a cry that you hear at night** **  
** **It's not somebody who's seen the light** **  
** **It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah**

 

“печь!” _(stove)_

She watched, feeling like a child being abandoned, as he sat back on his hunches, and pulled out another gun from wherever he keeps them. She liked to think of it like a magic trick. Not real magic, like Wanda or Loki, but like a Los Vegas illusion show. She managed to get him to straight up _giggle_ , only the once, when he pulled a fucking machine gun from somewhere on his body and she was so shocked that she blurted out, “Ay Presto!”

His eyes took her in, while hers did the same, one last time.

He had blood freely running down his body, and his face had a pale, waxy sheen to it. He was the most beautiful thing she’d ever see.

“девять!” _(nine)_

He gave a little nod and, as if in slow motion, he stood from behind the upended marble bench.

His arms lifted and took aim at the unknown number of Hydra agents beyond. It probably was his usual ninja-spy speed, but it felt like the slowest thing to happen. Like he was trying to get himself shot, but she knew better.

She was fading, she knew. She’d watched too many horror movies to know that this feeling of being cold was right before the ending.

She heard somewhere that the last thing that a person saw was eternally burned to the back of the retina. She didn’t know if it was true or not… better safe than sorry.

Slumping to the side, she locked her eyes on her love.

A flash of orange light lit his features as she lost consciousness.

 

 **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah**

 **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah**

  


The smell of disinfectant.

The sound of rhythmic beeping.

A metal hand, warm in hers.

A whisper of “Hallelujah for Johnny Storm,” in her ear.

  
  
  
  


**Well I've heard there was a secret chord** **  
** **That David played and it pleased the Lord** **  
** **But you don't really care for music, do you?** **  
** **Well it goes like this:** **  
** **The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift** **  
** **The baffled king composing Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Well your faith was strong but you needed proof** **  
** **You saw her bathing on the roof** **  
** **Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya** **  
** **She tied you to her kitchen chair** **  
** **And she broke your throne and she cut your hair** **  
** **And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah**   
**Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah**   
**But baby I've been here before** **  
** **I've seen this room and I've walked this floor** **  
** **You know, I used to live alone before I knew ya** **  
** **And I've seen your flag on the marble arch** **  
** **And love is not a victory march** **  
** **It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah**   
**Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah**   
**Well there was a time when you let me know** **  
** **What's really going on below** **  
** **But now you never show that to me do ya** **  
** **But remember when I moved in you** **  
** **And the holy dove was moving too** **  
** **And every breath we drew was Hallelujah**   
**Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah**   
**Maybe there's a God above** **  
** **But all I've ever learned from love** **  
** **Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya** **  
** **And it's not a cry that you hear at night** **  
** **It's not somebody who's seen the light** **  
** **It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah**   
**Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah**   
**Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah** **  
** **Hallelujah**   
  
  



	2. Smutty Extra because why the f**k not.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had some requests for a Soldier/Darcy smut and here it is!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing.
> 
> If you like this, check out my other fics, and my website for original content.

###  Hallelujah Smutty Extra

She was in the middle of showing off a handful of goodies she'd ordered for him, just shampoo and conditioner sets and shower gels in different scents he might like. Helping him to identify ways to become more autonomous, ways to identify his own preferences. Nothing special.

But then he'd given her that look. Darcy'd become quite good at reading his extremely subtle facial expressions, every micro tick, and at seeing this particular look, she felt the instant sensation of a molten lava pit taking up residence in her lower belly. She had only seen this look once before and it hadn't just ended in the life altering, mind melting, limping-for-two-days sex that was his standard… no, that look was last seen when he had decided to worship her body in a way that he was solely capable of. Actually, Steve could possibly be up for the challenge. Thor, too. Maybe Bruce? Okay let's just say Yasha was the most qualified to make this actually happen and leave it at that, cool? Cool.

With a moment of what she believed was calculation, he plucked the box of men's grooming items from her hands and led her to his bed. He didn't smile, though his eyes were giving her some sultry smiles. He didn't offer words, something that she at one time would have been driven mad by, but had discovered she loved. He said everything he needed to with his actions and body movement. She still talked his ear off, and enjoyed it a lot (as did he apparently), but she had become more aware of reading body language and been more aware of her own expressions because of his preference to not speak.

His eyes flicked to her top and back to her eyes, which she read him asking her to get naked. With a cheeky grin, she began untucking her blouse from her skirt and slowly unbuttoning it from the bottom up. His eyes danced from her bitten lip to the buttons and back to her eyes. She got the impression that he seemed like he wanted to help but didnt know how to ask. So she stepped into his space, something that only she could do without him flinching, reached out and began untucking his shirt from his jeans. When he didn't move, she gave him a little smile and moved his hands to where her blouse buttons were left half undone, and went back to undoing his pants, leaving little butterfly-soft kisses wherever she could reach. She wasn't normally this feminine or sweet but he just brought it out of her; the desire to nurture and protect, and give sweetness and adoration. She certainly still gave him her naughty, challenging, audacious self. But when it was just the two of them, when she had him to herself and he let his walls down, all she wanted to do was cherish the person that only she was privileged to see. She wanted to make up for seventy years of no sweetness.

By the time they had each other down to their underwear, and he had begun showering her with feather soft touches and kisses that had her whimpering and slick with need. No one before him could get her this turned on, let alone this quickly. She had already decided it was totally a Yasha thing. She stepped away from him and climbed onto his massive bed, and he stared at her a moment considering before leaning over and grabbing a pillow and offering her his hand. 

He had an idea. She loved his ideas. They always ended up with her getting orgasms or fancy ass coffee with little european treats. Sometimes both. Yasha really knew how to treat a girl.

He led her to the lounge room of his apartment, he moved the coffee table out of the way and placed the pillow on the floor. Normally she would complain about floor sex, but she had taken him shopping for home goods to buy things to make his place more of a home for him and he had picked out the softest faux fur rug. It was a camel tone and went nicely with the latte coloured walls they'd painted the living room. 

He lay her down gently on her back, tucking the pillow below her ass, and looked at her in a way that she had learned meant he was checking if she was okay. She smiled at him, running her fingers through his hair, nails ever so gently grazing his scalp.

"Yasha," she said softly, "you have my full consent to have sex until I say Stop. Do I have your consent to do the same to you?" She recited this every time, and while it could take away from the intimacy, for them it added to it. 

His eyes darkened and he leaned down to speak softly against her lips, "Da, Kiska."

He began kissing her softly, his fingers drawing little patterns all over her body, making her nerves stand on end to try and feel his every move along with the soft rug beneath her. She knew this wasn't going to be his usual quicky - well his version that resulted in her getting 4 orgasms - she suspected they'll be there for a while. So she settled in and just absorbed the pleasure he was giving. She would have reciprocated, but they both knew he prefered to be in control and she prefered he be in control. If he wanted her to do anything, she knew that he knew he simply had to give her instructions. She was in charge in every other aspect of her life, and he had spent 70 years of not being in control, so it works for them.

Soon she was panting and writhing beneath him, her flush skin now so sensitive that she was covered in a rash of goosebumps. She had tried to touch him, but he gently took her hands off him and with a tender kiss, he placed them at her sides. 

"Yasha," she whimpered, feeling her stinging eyes gloss over and her lower lip threatening to wobble. She was overwhelmed and just wanted to touch him, hold onto him, he was the only thing solid.

His face came up to meet hers from where he'd been placing delicate kisses over her knees. His eyes searched hers and instantly took her hands and placed them in his hair. "Sorry," he mumbled against her lips. She gave a small sob of laughter and kissed him, nipping at his lips in a way she knew drove him crazy. Her hard nipple grazed the rough scar tissue where his chest and prosthetic met and she unexpectedly arched her back at the spectacular sensation strumming through her at the contact.

He gave a low growl, and crawled back down her body to only peal her underwear off and spread her legs exposing her dripping centre to the cool air. One cold and one warm hand on the inside of each thigh. She shuddered and rolled her hips, but he didnt dive in like a man starved. No. They knew each other better than that by now. He liked to savour every bit of pleasure he was given; good food, warm weather, her pussy. 

He leaned in and breathed her in. The first time creeped her out a bit, but she kinda loved that drugged look on his face so the feeling didn't last. 

His fingers flexed slightly on her hypersensitive inner thighs and she moaned, this was why she loved wearing thigh high stockings and he knew it.

He locked eyes on her as he leaned down, his striking blue eyes sparkling as he gently breathed over her clit. She felt her eyelids drop as all of her nerves in between her legs lit up her brain. It wasn't really a kink, she just got more turned on by gentle touch than she did regular touch. All of her senses reaching for more seemed to get her there faster and he, oh he  _ revelled _ in it. He fucking adored that he could touch her so softly, that he was both capable, and allowed to touch her like she was glass and she reacted to his touch so quickly. 

The second breath was warmer, his lips  _ just there _ . She could practically feel them. Her lower abdomen clenched and she moaned.

His hands lifted their pressure from her thighs and glanced the skin as he moved them as a glacial pace up her thighs making her pant. He hadn't even touched her yet and she was ready to cum.

His forefingers and thumbs framed her lower lips now, and his mouth so close he breathed air rhythmically to her center, and all she wanted was more. Her eyes were locked to his as he watched her slowly lose her mind with anticipation and need. He licked his lips before moulding them softly around her clit and just leaving them there. The warmth sent jolts of electricity up her spine and down her legs and she threw her head back with a long moan. Then, before she could react, he pressed a single finger deep into her slick hole, angling it up to her G spot. Her mind went blank and she began riding his face. 

When she came, he had 2 fingers buried in her and his tongue strumming her clit. He leaned up, fingers still buried in her drawing out her orgasm, and sucked a sensitive nipple into his mouth and suckled, then the other before tangling his tongue with hers. She felt his fingers leave her, but then felt the head of his dick nudge at her sopping entrance. She ran her hands up his chest, making sure to rub his nipples as she passed, and clutched the crook of his neck and waited for him to slowly enter her. He looked down at her with a determined gleam in his eye and leaned down to her ear. "Count twenty."

She blinked stupidly for a second before she pulled her head back to look at him. "Are you serious? You want to give me twenty orgasms?" She wasn't sure she even  _ could _ squeak til just now, but apparently it was possible. 

He gave a brief nod, and waited. She took a deep breath and leaned in to give him a little adoring kiss on the corner of his mouth. And gave him a smirk. "One, oh great sex beast of-" he cut her off with a kiss and pushed his cock in slowly but firmly. 

Her fingers slid up the back of his neck and clutched at his hair while he rolled his hips against her, strumming her clit with his pelvis on the outside and bumping against her sweet spot on the down stroke on the inside. 

It wasn't long before she was sobbing "two," "three," and "four," but as five approached, all her muscles had gone limp and she was doing little more than moaning lowly and struggling to focus her leaking eyes on anything.  

As if he expected this, he leaned back a little and lifted one of her legs to her chest, allowing him to hit deeper and she was instantly wailing through "fi-iv-ive," "sssssixxxxx," and grunting through "sev'n," "aayyy-tuh," and "nnnn."

He pulled out and rolled her over to her stomach, the faux fur against her breasts sending her over sensitive skin into shock waves of sensation and a low moan escaped her as he positioned her hips over the pillow once again. 

"Okay?" His words were soft sweet, and warm and she felt like she was wrapped in warm taffy. She gave a moan of pleasure, words no longer an option.

She felt a tiny kiss pressed to her shoulder and a lazy smile spread on her lips, knowing that he might as well be shouting to the rooftops that he loved her. The smile didn't falter even as he pushed back in, with more force this time. Oh, she loved when he made love to her like she was precious, but she also loved when he fucked her like he was claiming her. 

She wasn't sure what they put in the soldier serum, but she was pretty happy with the stamina and lack of refractory period it boasted. No wonder Hydra was always trying to replicate it. Limp-dick assholes.

With his hands clutching her hips, he began moving inside her again with his balls slapping her clit and an obscene squelching that only served to turn her on more.

He built up the pace til he was pounding into her at a rate that would make a normal man tire quickly. She saw stars as she came again, giving little more than a weak moan as her muscles tensed and electricity raced along all of her body. He didn't even slow as he continued to roughly use her body like a limp fuckdoll. He wasn't even out of breath as he shoved in hard and came the first time, tripping her into her next orgasm. She loved when he came in her. So did he. He pulled his still hard cock out of her and pushed her thighs apart to watch their cum dribble out of her, making her moan.

She felt it drip down over her over sensitive clit just before he scooped at it with his fingers to then push it back into her. He then fingered her slowly. In and out. In and out. She wanted more, she felt so empty. His fingers could reach so deep, but she was so wet and filled with cum that there was virtually no friction and it was driving her mad. Whimpering she rolled her hips, only to receive a smack right where her thigh met her ass. She felt him continue to finger her, his other hand going to her clit and nudging the side of it slowly building her up, higher and higher. It wasn't til he blew a long soft breath against her asshole that she came again. 

Before she had come back down, he was filling her up with his dick again, pounding away as before, only this time she could feel a sticky thumb simply placed over her asshole as he fucked her hard enough to leave bruises. 

She knew she wasn't going to walk tomorrow, but she had nowhere to be and she felt decadent as fuck right now, even if all she could do was lay there and take it, moaning for more.

She didn't know what happened, but for some reason he slowed down. He was just sawing in and out of her, his balls slapping her clit with only enough force to keep her going. She whimpered and weakly tried to roll her hips. There was no response, but a clearing of a throat drew her attention and she realised that someone else was in the room. She didn't know who it was, but from the sounds of things, they were standing where they could see everything. She whimpered again at being seen by someone other than Yasha. 

"Can you stop pointing the gun at me, Buck? Also," a pause, "how long have you two been at it?" Came the judgy voice of their intruder. How did Yasha have a gun right now? Also, how did Steve not understand what a gun to the face means?

She felt another smack to mirror the first one, making her moan. He also pressed his thumb against her puckered hole with a little more insistence, his dick still sawing in and out of her slowly. She tried to rock with him, but she earned another smack and he shoved his cock in hard and ground deep inside her making her pant.

"Four hours, twenty three minutes." Yasha was always so precise.

His thumb began rubbing circles against her hole and went back to sawing in and out, balls slapping her clit. All with Steve watching the whole time. 

"Even I can see she can't see straight and you're still going?" The incredulous tone might have made her feel a little proud, but why was he still standing there? 

"Jesus, look at that mess. How many times have you cum?" 

He was staring at the mess they've created and then Yasha snapped his hips and she tumbled into her next orgasm. Cumming on Yasha's dick right in front of judgy Steve Rogers. She didn't know if it was an exhibition kink or what, but it shouldn't have been as hot as it was.

"Thirteen." Yasha's voice was deep and he ground his hips forward again, giving her his second load of cum. Her orgasm being dragged out by the action. She mustered enough energy to gasp out, "Two" as she continued to feel his dick jump deep inside her clenching hole.

"Oh fuck," Steve whispered. 

She heard the sound of a gun doing some kind if gun clicky thing, and heard Steve stammering as he stumbled out the door, and it closing with a resounding slam.

Yasha growled and pulled out, spreading her legs again, his thumb never leaving her asshole. In fact, she hadn't even felt it, but his thumb was as deep in her ass as it would go and the realisation had her clenching down on it. She felt his hot cum deep inside her this time, not coming out of her and something about that had her moaning again. She couldn't move, but she wanted to when she felt him licking her sticky cunt, cleaning up their mess. When his lips wrapped around her clit she grunted, but then his tongue began to flutter over it and she wailed into her fourteenth orgasm. She felt his dick fill her again and sighed at being full again. A thought that he was trying not to hurt her by alternating flashed through her mind before all was lost to the sensation of his cock rubbing her walls and bottoming out while his balls slapped her clit. 

His thumb was pulled out of her ass only to be replaced with two cum covered fingers. And then he began moving them in tandem. After that she doesn't remember much. Just lots of fireworks and one orgasm after another and feeling his cum fill her exhausted hole over and over. 

She woke up the next morning in his bed; clean, covered in massage oil and bruise-cream. Next to the bed was a caramel frappe, a dozen chocolate macarons and a single tiny daisy. 

She couldn't wipe the smile off her face, even when she had to see Steve afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is the breakfast of champions!  
> If you like this, subscribe, and check me out on my socials for bookish merch and links to my novel “Once Upon A… What?” 
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> [www.KatherineHenshaw.com](https://www.katherinehenshaw.com)
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> 
> Instagram - [@Kat_Henshaw](https://www.instagram.com/kat_henshaw/)
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> Twitter - [@Kat_Henshaw](https://twitter.com/Kat_Henshaw?s=09)
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